Gonna raise me an army, some tough sons of bitches /// Recruit my army from the orphanages

A show I watched, a show I’d like to be on

March 23, 2006

The former item of this post’s title refers to the second episode of the sixth season of the The Sopranos, which I saw last Sunday night. Such dread. For those who don’t know what’s happened so far (and don’t want to know), stop reading now.

So Tony’s nearly dead, or he’s in between, in purgatory, which is represented by a couple of massive, glossy, anonymous hotels, one called the “Omni,” which seems to hint at the directional uncertainty of his life and (possible) death. And then there’s just these little hints at what might come: the flame-lick of a forest fire on the horizon, a commercial on TV (this was a bit over-blatant, but whatever) featuring a cross – and James Gandolfini, this is how good he is, you know he knows somewhere within himself exactly what’s going on here, and he expresses it with the slightest of facial expressions, just the very slightest. That’s always been a highlight of the show, I think: reading Tony Soprano’s mind via James Gandolfini’s face.

The latter item of the post’s title refers to a reality TV show I’m applying to be on. Wait, wait – don’t click “X” in disgust just yet; it’s actually pretty cool, and totally For Me. It’s going to be on MTV, and it’s basically an Apprentice-type show, but instead of The Donald, it’s Jann Wenner – meaning instead of the Trump Company, it’s Rolling Stone. And, though I probably won’t get on – I imagine they’ll be very careful not to pick too many New Yorkers, so my already long odds are even longer – it’s still a cool process, and is based on valid things like writing ability (they ask for samples), favorite journalists, stories you would pitch to your RS editor, stories you wish you’d written, things like that. The only thing I lack is a DV video camera.